Earlier this year, I wrote to a magazine that I like to pitch an article about Lydia Tomkiw, post-punk absudist poet and singer for the band Algebra Suicide. I had done some writing and research for the piece, but hadn’t got too far.

These strike me as the only two options. There is always the third, remote possibility that Tom Hanks does not know who I am and thus is indifferent to me and that God is a human construct whom is therefore also incapable of holding strong feelings about my existence… but this seems farfetched.